


Tom's not okay

by Jaro (ARealSlimScotty)



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Blood, Edds a wreck, Matt is confused, Suicide, This fic is just Tom dying and everyone reacting, this is just a sad mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 08:04:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10301780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ARealSlimScotty/pseuds/Jaro
Summary: Tom was not okay. He was many things but okay was one of the things that he wasn’t. Depressed? Yep. Suicidal? Definitely. Drunk off his ass? Totally. Okay? Nope, not at all.Uh.. trigger warning... Suicide, depression, blood





	1. Tom's not okay

Tom was not okay. He was many things but okay was one of the things that he wasn’t. Depressed? Yep. Suicidal? Definitely. Drunk off his ass? Totally. Okay? Nope, not at all. 

Tom found himself halfway into a bottle of Smirnoff, lying on the bathroom floor and feeling like literal shit. He drank to forget, but he always remembered. Drank to feel numb, but he always felt sad. He drank to feel better, but he never felt better. At this point getting drunk was just routine. He even made up a fun drinking game! Feel sad? Take a shot! Want to die? Take a shot, buddy! Regret fucking murdering a friend of yours?? TAKE A FUCKING SHOT PAL!!

Edd must really hate him for this. All Tom did was drink. He woke up and the first thing he did was reach for his Smirnoff and get drunk. He worried Edd to no end, all he did was waste Edd’s space and time.

Matt probably forgot him by now. He never left the apartment, and when he did it was to buy more vodka. He was probably just a faded memory at best, and a random stranger at worst. 

And Tord… Tord was dead. Tom fucking killed him. Shot a harpoon.. Right through his chest. Tom regretted shooting the harpoon so much. It kept him awake at night, and made him want to cry every time he shut his eyes. It’s what made him drink so much.

He stood up, swaying a bit before losing his balance and doubling over onto the floor. He winced a bit as his face hit the cool tile. He was too drunk to even stand. How fucking pathetic. Tom wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or cry. He was such a fucking mess it was almost funny, but it was also incredibly sad to see himself in this state.

He lifted a hand up onto the sink and used to to pull himself up. He was still wobbling but it was easier to get up when he was leaning against the counter. He moved a hand to open up one of the drawers, having a bit of difficulty as he gripped onto the handle. He pulled it open and reached inside grabbing all the bottles he could.

Whenever Tom was drunk, he didn’t think. He barely thought anything through. He may have been sick and miserable when he was drunk, but he didn’t think. 

He took a minute to look at his reflection in the mirror, chuckling sadly at the sight. God he was such a wreck! His face was sunken and sad, and tears were flowing from his face. He made no attempt to stop them as he practically choked on his own sobs. He took another sip of smirnoff and looked over at the pill bottles again.

He dumped them out. Handfuls of various pills scattering out across the sink top. He picked some of them up and gulped them down with his vodka. Then he did it again. And again. And continued doing so until there were barely any pills left and his throat and stomach felt like they were going to burst.

Tom took his hand off of the sink and let himself wobble and fall backwards, unable to support his own weight. He didn’t even feel himself hit the tile ground for the second time that night. Tears rolled freely down his face as he fought back the urge to vomit, instead opting for laying down in the bathtub.

He felt nauseous and queasy. He felt sad and miserable. But he also felt oddly numb. Would Edd care if he died? No. Tom was just a burden to him. Would Matt care if he died? No. Matt probably didn’t know who Tom was anymore. And Tord was dead. Tord was dead. Tord was dead. The words rang through his head. He thought about this earlier. He thought about it constantly. 

He reached for his bottle of Smirnoff, still fighting back the urge to puke up all the pills and alcohol he consumed. Want to die? Take a shot. Currently dying? Take a shot.

He chugged the rest of the vodka before dropping it. The glass shattered when it hit the floor. Tom laughed. He laughed incredibly hard. There was something incredibly funny about the way the glass just shattered. It just broke apart. All it took was one tiny event and the entire bottle was shattered! How FUCKING HILARIOUS! 

And as quickly as he started to laugh, he started to cry. And crying turned to sobbing. And before Tom knew it, he was choking on his own tears the feeling of pills still lingering in his throat. His life was just like that damn bottle! One tiny event and it all just shattered! How sad.. 

And as quickly as he started to cry, he started to fade away. His eyelids grew heavy as he swallowed down the vomit that was trying to creep out of his throat. His vision was blurring. His hearing was fading. His senses were dull. He was going to die. This was going to be how he died. Drunk and miserable, overdosing on pills in his own bathtub. He shut his eyes and let another tear fall before things started slipping even more. 

Tom felt arms wrap around him.

He heard a familiar voice scream his name.

Who was that? Who was holding him? 

It didn’t matter.

Everything was growing numb and dark. Reality was slipping away from tom.

Tom was not okay. He was many things but okay was one of the things that he wasn’t. Depressed? Yep. Suicidal? Definitely. Drunk off his ass? Totally. Dead? Definitely. Okay? Nope, not at all.


	2. Edd's not okay either

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uh... I may have gone a bit overboard with this. Here is Edd's side of the aftermath. I'll write a Matt side if I have the motivation but I gotta pass out. Trigger warning for blood haha..

Edd was shaking. Literally shaking as he held Tom in his arms. He felt tears pick in his eyes as he held the blue hooded man.

“Tom.. Tom..? TOM! TOM!!!” he practically screamed, shaking the brit with all he had in him. He continued to shout as he shook Tom’s body until he finally felt it go limp in his hands. He kept whispering Tom’s name over and over again as he still clung onto the body.

Tom wasn’t dead, right? He didn’t drink that much, right? He had just passed out, right? Edd’s mind raced as he began to panic. He knelt down on the floor, wincing as shards of glass from the smirnoff bottle pressed against his skin. He layed Tom down in the empty bathtub and checked his breathing. He wasn’t breathing. Tom wasn’t breathing. Tom was dead.

Edd froze in shock. And for a minute, he felt nothing. Not a single emotion. Not a single bit of pain. He felt absolutely nothing.

And then it hit him. Emotion, pain, all of it. It hit him like a fucking train. He doubled over as started to sob. The guilt, the grief, the loss, the sadness… everything overwhelming him. As Edd slumped over the side of the tub and cried, the glass shards continued to pierce his skin. Blood was dripping onto the cold tile but Edd didn’t care. Tom was gone. Tom was gone and it was his fault. If only he had kept a better eye on the drunk and kept him from drinking so much. If only he had told Tom to stay over at his place. If only..

Edd stood up, still shaking. Maybe even shaking more than earlier. He continued to sob openly as he looked around the bathroom for more bottles of smirnoff. One wasn’t enough to kill Tom, right? There had to be more, right?

He found more bottles. Not bottles of vodka, though. They were bottles of pills. Empty bottles of pills. Some pills were scattered about the sink and floor. Edd looked over at the corpse laying down in the bathtub. Tom’s corpse.

And then it hit Edd again. Tom didn’t drink himself to death on accident. It was suicide. He overdosed on pills… to kill himself. Tom killed himself and he did it on purpose. Edd was sobbing even more now, unable to stop the tears and he leaned over and used the sink as a support. If only he had seen the warning signs… If only he had tried to reach out to tom… If only…

Tears continued to roll down with cheeks as he glanced down at his legs. His vision was blurred with tears but he could see splotches of red. He felt the pain of glass in his legs, but the emotional pain of the situation almost outweighed it. What was he supposed to do? His friend was dead and his legs were covered in broken glass and blood.

He had just gotten over Tord’s death and now Tom was dead too? Thats two of his closest friends.. It was all his fault to. Tord’s death could have been avoided if he had just gotten their sooner, or if he had listened to Tom, or if he had done literally anything.. And Tom’s death was so easily avoidable is was sad. Edd was desperate to make everyone happy that he let them die.

He had just wanted to let Tom cope in his own way, and take all the time he needed. So he let the Brit get drunk all the time... He let the Brit bottle up his feeling and refuse to talk to anyone… He let the brit.. He let Tom.. He let Tom fucking die.

He had just wanted Tord to move back in and for things to be the same again. So he listened to Tord’s lies even if he was suspicious… So he avoided what Tom said because he wanted Tord to be happy.. So he let Tord get shot with a fucking harpoon.

Those deaths. Tord’s Death, Tom’s death. They were all his fault. They were all HIS FUCKING FAULT.

Edd fell over the ground, now blind with tears as he wailed out in a mix of physical and emotional pain. He started pulling the glass out of his legs not wanting to keep it in there. That was bad, right? Keeping glass in a cut was bad, right? He wasn’t sure but his instincts were telling him to take the glass out. His instincts. The same instincts that made him “leader” of the group. The same instincts that caused Tord’s and Tom’s deaths.

He reached under the sink, checking to see if Tom had a first-aid kit. He didn’t. Instead Edd grabbed towels and pressed them against his legs. Apply pressure to the wound, right? Stop the bleeding, right?

He looked over at Tom’s corpse again and felt another wave of sadness wash over him. He needed to get out. He needed to stop the bleeding so he could get out of there. He’d get rid of Tom’s body later but for now… He just needed to be away from it. It was too much.

He tried to stand up, but it put far too much pressure on his legs.

He crawled his way out of the bathroom.

He curled up onto Tom’s couch and started bawling again.

Tom was dead, Tord was dead.

And it was all his fault.


	3. Matt isn't either

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's Matts reaction haha;; I might make a Tord one, for shits and giggles but like idk how Tord would get the news of a Tom suicide.

Matt grasped onto his little cymbal monkey was he wandered the halls. He was going to visit Tim. Which apartment was Tim’s again? He couldn’t remember. He glanced at the mirror in his other hand, smiling when he was met with his own face. There was also a post-it note on the corner of the mirror that read “119”. Did he put that there? Probably. He shrugged and walked to where apartment 119 was and opened the door.

“Tim!” He called, as he shut the door behind himself. He jumped a bit when he saw Edd lying there on the couch. Edd looked… Shaky? Sad? Broken? Matt couldn’t quite place his finger on it, but Edd did not look good either way.

“Hey, Edd? You awake?” He asked, poking the green hooded man. Edd stirred a bit in his sleep, before practically jumping up off of the couch. He looked like he had barely gotten any sleep. “Edd, what are you doing in Tim’s apartment?” 

Edd seemed to jump even more at that, as he looked around the room nervously. He mumbled something under his breath and ran off into the bathroom. Matt just stood there confused. Did he miss something? Did he forget something? He tightened his grip on the cymbal monkey and stared at his reflection again. Surely he would have written it down if something big happened, he always seemed to do that. There were always little post-it notes scattered about his apartment to help him remember even simple things.

Matt was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard Edd yell from the bathroom. “TOM! WAKE UP!!” He heard Edd yell, and it was followed by a quieter “..So it wasn’t a dream…”

He walked into the bathroom and was greeted by a sad sight. Edd was standing by the bathtub, leaning on the sink for support as he tried to hold in his tears. There were tons of small cuts and scabs on his legs, too. And in the bathtub there was another guy. Who was it? Whoever they were, they wore a blue hoodie and they were unconscious. 

Edd walked out, still trying to hold in tears as he mumbled under his breath. Matt walked over to the man in the bathtub, unsure of what to do. Was the man sleeping? Was he dead? Matt checked his pulse and breathing. He was dead.

He felt a few tears fall. Almost like he knew who this man was. Did he? Was this a person Matt knew but forgot? He couldn’t tell… He couldn’t remember… But for whatever reason he couldn’t stop crying. His body was grieving over the loss of somebody he didn’t even know. They looked so familiar, but so much like a stranger. What about them made him recognize them? Why did they seem so hauntingly familiar? 

He didn’t know. Matt didn’t know. Matt didn’t know who this person was, or why their death was making him so sad and that… that made it so much worse. Why couldn’t he remember? Why did he forget? Would he forget who Edd was one day? Would he forget who he was someday?  
He sat down on the edge of the bathtub, being careful to avoid the glass shards. Whoever this person was.. They must have been important to him. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be crying so much. He set his cymbal monkey onto the dead man’s lap.

“Here, you can have this…” He offered, giving the corpse a weak smile, “You can hug him.. And squeeze him.. And call him ‘Little Tom’...” He wiped his tears away. No use in crying over somebody you can’t remember. He looked at himself in his mirror again, and smiled even wider. It felt fake. But soon he’d forget and the fake smile would become real.

Matt walked out of the bathroom. Edd was in Tim’s apartment, right? Yeah, he should be. If Matt was remembering things right then he would be. Then again Matt’s memory wasn’t the best.

He jumped a bit when he walked into the kitchen and saw a man in a green hoodie. Who was that? Was that Edd?

“Hey Edd, good morning!” He smiled, guessing that it was indeed Edd.

“... G-Good morning, Matt…” Edd said weakly. He was sitting down at the table, and his face was wet with tears as he smiled at Matt. Was that smile fake? Why was Edd crying? Did Matt forget why? He felt sad again… Why couldn’t he just remember things? He plastered another smile on his face. At least he knew who Edd was. 

“Where’s Tim?” He asked, curious. He was going to hang out with Tim today, right? That was what he had planned, right? Edd froze up at that question before giving a shaky answer.

“T-Tim… He… H-He moved..” Edd stuttered, his smile faltering.

“I guess it’s just you and me then, Edd!” He smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> Here take this mess, I kind of regret it. I'm sad so I wrote sad.


End file.
